The night I died…


At seven p.m. on Friday August 9th, I died. And then I went to Hell with Christopher Eccleston (who you might remember used to be Doctor Who) and fellow GHB-er, Tamsyn Murray. Hell, I discovered, is very dark and shaky, and it tastes of lemon sherbert sweets. It’s hot too, but you knew that already.

I promise you that I’m not hallucinating. This is all true. Tamsyn and I were very privileged to be among a select group of writers and publishers invited to a private theatrical event at the Roundhouse in Camden Town. It was shrouded in secrecy, so we had no idea what to expect until we got there. All we knew was that it had something to do with books and that it was going to be dark and claustrophic…

There were five people in my group, including the author Sarah Waters (who wrote the Victorian novel…

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